


Silver and gold

by melian225



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Fluff, Heads Dorms, Romance, Slytherin and Gryffindor, challenge, dramione - Freeform, joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melian225/pseuds/melian225
Summary: Hermione has a history of pushing Draco away. Until tonight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a joke, to see if I could write a Dramione without gagging. I'm not sure about the gagging bit, but I do seem to have pulled off a Dramione. I have long harboured a plan to write a full length Dramione parody, with every cliche under the sun, so I'm seeing this as my training for that longer work. Take it seriously or with a grain of salt, whichever you prefer, but either way I hope you get a smile from it.

Hermione walked into the Heads dorm, unsure what to expect. Sure, she’d been flirting madly with Draco all week, but she had a feeling that tonight he was going to do something to reciprocate.

It wasn’t just his smouldering gaze across the cauldron at Potions. It wasn’t just the accidental touches, brushing past her on the stairs or in the Great Hall. It wasn’t just the heat that gathered beneath her skin when he did touch her.

It was all of that and more. The promise of things to come.

She sighed, leaning against the door she had just closed. The Heads dorm was decorated in a confused mix of red and green, Gryffindor and Slytherin. She had made a point of putting the golden lion up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and he’d done the same, posting serpents on the walls and bedecking the furniture in green and silver. Slowly, over the months, the strict delineation had disappeared, with lion and snake now appearing together, green alongside red, gold bordering silver. With the disappearance of demarcated areas had gone her resistance to sharing a space with a Slytherin, and Draco Malfoy at that. Dumbledore had said once that they Sorted too soon, and Hermione was inclined to agree with that.

Gryffindor and Slytherin. Chalk and cheese, or yin and yang? Her initial reaction had been the former, but now she was more inclined to consider the latter. Sure, Draco was ambitious and sly, as all were who adopted the serpent as their symbol. But his ambition was leaning in a direction she’d not anticipated – not towards the Death Eaters, but instead towards distancing himself from his family. The words “my father” hadn’t escaped his lips all year … and she’d been paying far more attention to those lips than perhaps she should have. Draco no longer cared what his father would say. He was establishing his own character, his own dynasty.

And she was considering becoming a part of it.

Harry and Ron wouldn’t understand, she knew. But she would talk to them, explain why this had become so inevitable. They would get it in the end. They would have to.

Getting up from the door, she moved to the sofa and arranged herself on it. Not too obvious, but not too discouraging either. She made sure her chocolate curls were sitting prettily on her shoulders, that her blouse had maybe one or two less buttons done up than Professor McGonagall would consider appropriate. Her skirt was also perhaps riding up her thighs a little more than usual, but not obviously so.

Yes. She was ready.

And just in time. The door opened, Draco’s low drawl muttering the password. He came in, surveyed the room for a moment before his eyes alighted on Hermione. The way they lit up told her she’d done her job well, and in three strides he was before her, his eyes drinking her in.

“Hermione.”

“Draco.” Her voice was breathy, expectant.

He held out a hand, and she took it, using him as a crutch to help her stand. She needed it. She felt like her knees were about to give way.

He was still gripping her hand, his grey eyes searching her brown ones for a sign. Feeling stifled, like she might forget to breathe, she dropped his hand to put both of hers on his shoulders.

“Hermione.” His voice caught, now just a whisper, his mouth inches from hers.

“Draco.” Just a murmer, her head angling up to his.

And he kissed her. Slowly, tentatively yet authoritatively, his teeth biting her lower lip gently as  she reached for him, her arms meeting around the back of his neck, her body pushing up against him.

It was all she had ever dreamed it would be, and more.

He pulled her even closer, then made a little more distance as a hand found a breast, pulling against the buttons that restrained it beneath her blouse. Still kissing him, she reached for buttons of her own, on his shirt, desperate to get those muscles she’d seen hints of on display.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze on hers. “Are you sure?”

What sort of question was that? She’d been sure for days, weeks, months. Her smile matched his as she nodded slowly.

“Yes, Draco,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She knew, though, that he was taking in every word. “I’m sure.”

 


End file.
